


Kinktober 6

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: Kinktober 2019 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Dean Winchester, F/M, Femdom, First Time, Flogging, Impact Play, Kinktober 2019, Nudity, Smut adjacent, Sub Dean, Sub!Dean, no actual sexual touching happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 20:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20918036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: She really wants to try this. Dean hesitantly agrees, afraid it might bring up unpleasant memories. They are both surprised by the outcome.





	Kinktober 6

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 of Kinktober with prompt Flogging. There is no actual sexual touching in this fic. This is how I personally experience this type of scene. I apologize for nothing.
> 
> [This is the flogger.](https://www.extremerestraints.com/strict-leather-premium-soft-leather-flogger.html)

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, fingering the soft leather strands of the flogger, his lips pursed in thought. He looked worried. She sat down next to him and stroked his back soothingly. 

“We can skip this one, Dean if you’re really worried,” she spoke softly, wanting to assure him that she would be ok with it.

Dean shook his head, sliding the tails through his fingers again before looking up at her through his lashes.

“No, it’s ok. I trust you. Besides,” he smiled wryly, “it helps to know that I won’t be tied up.”

She returned his smile and put her hand on top of his, sliding it along his fingers and onto the leather, gently taking the flogger from him.

“Good. Lie down when you’re ready. It’ll probably help you if you grab onto the headboard too,” she told him, giving him half a one-armed hug.

Dean leaned into her for a moment, then nodded. Once she had stood up, he swung his legs over and tried to get comfortable lying face down in the middle of the bed. He tucked a pillow under his head, both for comfort and to muffle his sounds, then reached up and gripped the headboard loosely. He glanced up at her and nodded. She could see the lingering doubts in his eyes, but he had said it was ok, and she had to trust that he would tell her the truth.

Moving closer, she braced one knee on the mattress and brushed the tails of the flogger across Dean’s back. She watched the goosebumps erupt on his skin and felt a shiver pass through her. Gauging the distance, she swung the flogger like a pendulum, the ends of the tails just barely brushing Dean’s shoulders. 

When she started, she started with soft brushes of the tails across his shoulders, moving the flogger in a rotating motion. Each downswing brushed his skin softly enough that there were no marks left behind. She moved her hand to cover his entire back with the light strokes, keeping it up until she saw him visibly relax. Without stopping, she checked in with him.

“You ok, Dean?”

“Yeah, good so far,” he replied, his voice muffled against the pillow.

With the confirmation from Dean, she increased the force of the strokes just enough for him to feel a slight sting after a few moments. The tails left behind just the barest hint of pink on his skin, like the flush after a hot shower. Dean’s breaths came slowly and evenly, his hands still only loosely gripping the headboard. He squirmed a bit at the warmth spreading on his skin, but soon settled once he adjusted to the feeling.

She kept a close eye on Dean, reading his body language, and what she could see of his face. She knew that too much talking would interfere with him finding his headspace, so she worked in silence, trusting him to let her know if something was wrong on his end.

When his whole back was a nice even pink, she increased the force of the strokes again. Dean’s breaths became heavier, more deliberate when he breathed through the sting. There was no pause between strikes, she spun the flogger in a continuous motion, only moving it up or down along his back to distribute the sting evenly. Dean’s hands gripped the headboard a little tighter, and a slight sheen of sweat began to break out all over his body.

She began to vary the force of the strikes, softer, then harder, while she moved up and down his back. Watching him, she saw him make good use of the instructions she had given him beforehand, breathing through the sting, letting the pain wash over him without focusing on it. It made her feel warm all over, seeing him like this, seeing the trust he had in her. 

Letting part of her mind drift, she let herself fall at least partway into her own headspace. The flogger in her hand and Dean’s body became her focus, even while she kept a close eye on his reactions. The flogger danced in her hand, occasional strokes hard enough to leave slight welts on his skin. He was breathing heavily now, panting really, his knuckles white where he gripped the headboard as if his life depended on it. His muscles trembled, body tense yet somehow at the same time sinking against the mattress. 

Dean’s head was no longer relaxed on the pillow, face towards her. His neck was stiff, face down and partly covered by the pillow. She could only see the corner of one of his eyes now, but that one was tightly clenched shut, the occasional tear escaping to trickle down his cheek and be absorbed by the pillow. Yet he was silent but for his panting breaths. 

Welts sprang up in the wake of the flogger’s tails on every stroke now. Long, straight welts. Short, curved welts. Red even against the backdrop of his red skin. If Dean had asked her to explain her emotions at that very moment, she would not have been able to. It was liquid fire coursing through her veins. It was ice shivering up and down her back. It was love. It was trust. It was bliss.

Eventually, she made herself come out of her headspace, slowing her strokes gradually until the tails were again just barely brushing Dean’s skin. They were both covered in sweat, hair damp, breathing hard. Finally, the flogger came to a stop, brushed once more across Dean’s heated back, then fell from her hand onto the floor with a soft thud.

She sank to her knees on the bed, her hands gently caressing his welted hide, soothing, calling him back. Long moments passed before she finally felt his muscles relax, his hands unclenched from the headboard and fell by his head, limp and spent.

She rested her cheek on his arm, away from the heat of his back, and whispered praise against his ear.


End file.
